


Love Bomb

by ThirstySpiders



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, under the influence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-03-29 16:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirstySpiders/pseuds/ThirstySpiders
Summary: Kurapika meets Kuroro to discuss a proposition that could potentially benefit them both. Unfortunately, an attempted burglary creates something of a predicament.





	1. An Offer

The chains on Kurapika’s hand clinked reassuringly as his eyes scanned across the room. Nothing immediately concerned him, but this cafe was crowded and he couldn’t be 100% certain of its security. That was fine. He wasn’t likely to let his guard down, anyway.

He pulled the thin pamphlet advertising the museum’s newest exhibit out of his pocket. Written in an elegant script in with thick black ink, the words “ _Come alone. No tricks. Promise.”_ stood out from the page. He had found it this morning pushed beneath his hotel room door. Kurapika had suspicions about who had left the note, even though it lacked a signature. Who else would have been able to conceal himself so well… and right outside of Kurapika’s room?

Sure enough, seated casually at a table in the corner of the cafe, sat Kuroro Lucifer. He did not look up when Kurapika entered, and instead read a book and looked no different than any other museum patron here for a quiet lunch on a Sunday. Regardless of  his apparent relaxation, he likely had known Kurapika was there as soon as he stepped off the street.

Kurapika strode across the cafe purposefully and pulled out a chair. There were two exits. One to the street, and the other into the museum itself.

Pulling out a chair, he sat across from the man. A bottle of red wine and two glasses sat atop the table.

“I’m glad you came,” Kuroro said, finally closing his book and looking up at him. His smile seemed genuine and Kurapika had to fight the urge to hit him in the face. Kuroro’s voice was amiable and earnest. It was a lie. Across from Kurapika sat a mass-murderer.

Kurapika said nothing, glancing at the television sitting suspended in the corner of the cafe. He could faintly hear the news report “...the eighth burglary this month. The culprits have not been identified, but they appear to use some kind of chemical agent to…”

He tuned it out and looked over at Kuroro, making what he hoped was a death glare. “You came alone?” Kurapika asked.

“Of course. I asked you to come alone, so I could hardly bring an ensemble myself.”

Kurapika narrowed his eyes. “Then you trust me to keep my word?”

The man brought his glass of red wine to his lips and took a slow sip. “No,” he said finally. “I trust in my own abilities.” He cocked his eyes to the side, studying Kurapika. His eyes slid down Kurapika’s arm and settled at the chains on his hand. “As you trust in yours.”

Kurapika crossed his arms with a frown. “You have something to say, so say it.”

“Can’t I order you something? The pastries here are-”

“Say it,” Kurapika repeated. His contacts kept the red in his eyes from showing. “So I can leave.”

Kuroro sighed and sloshed the wine around in his glass, the red liquid catching the light of the room. “Have you no patience?”

“Not while I’m in your company.”

“Then I’ll be frank: I think we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement,” Kuroro said. He re-filled his own glass with the bottle on the table and filled up a glass for his angry companion as well. He pushed the wine glass towards him but the blonde made no move to touch it.

“What sort of arrangement?” Kurapika asked, continuing to watch him closely.

“I know you are looking for your people’s eyes. I want to help you find them. Since I facilitated their sale, I have a start. Leads that you don’t have.”

Kurapika bit his tongue to keep from outright rejecting him. “You said mutually beneficial. What would you get out of this?”

Kuroro set the glass of wine down on the table. “That should be obvious. I want you.”

Kurapika felt anger rise up. “Excuse me?”

“Join us,” he said simply. “If your intent is truly to collect the eyes of your people, wouldn’t you do whatever it takes? Even if it means joining an enemy?”

“We’re done here,” Kurapika growled, rising from his seat. He had no desire to hear this. It was an affront to everything he believed. Kuroro knew that, too, so his desire to meet and present such an incredulous arrangement was surely no more than a way to rile him up or tease him.

Kuroro rose from his seat as well, moving to stand in front of him. “I would like you to reconsider. You don’t have to choose now or even in the next few days,” he said, spreading his hands out. “This is an open offer.”

“I suppose you’d want me to splash a tattoo onto my face, is that it?” Kurapika struggled to keep his voice even.

The older man chuckled a bit to himself. “No,” he said. “The face is too obvious. If I was going to make a suggestion…” He reached out with a hand, as though to rest his fingers on Kurapika’s chest.

“Don’t touch me!” he yelled, slapping his hand away before it could reach his chest. The white noise of the cafe quieted for a moment as heads turned to see what the commotion was. Kurapika was beyond caring. Since Kuroro stood between him and the cafe exit, he turned towards the other door, heading further into the museum.

The room contained an exhibit on a long dead people, their ancient carved statues staring at Kurapika with blank, stone eyes as he walked past them. The irony was not lost him.

The sound of steps behind him indicated that Kuroro had followed him into the room. The blonde turned sharply, bringing up an arm offensively. Kuroro easily blocked him with his wrist. Kurapika leaped backwards, creating as much space between him as he could. He stood at the ready, facing Kuroro with hatred plain on his features.

“I’ve seen you fight before, and I’d rather not do it here,” Kuroro said, moving out of his offensive pose. “You fight without regard for yourself or anything around you. You fight like someone ready to die. And then where would your clan be? An exhibit like this?”

Kurapika watched him without saying anything.

“No, I suppose it wouldn't….” Kuroro continued, musing out loud to himself. He walked over to one of the statues inside its glass case, laying a hand against it. “You spend more time trying to avenge your culture than preserve it.”

“If aggravating me into joining you is your strategy, it isn’t working,” Kurapika told him. “I can accomplish my goals without your help. Besides I don’t...I don’t want to be in a museum…”

“Why not?” Kuroro took his hand off the case and looked over at him.

“It’s...It’s nothing,” he said. The thought of the eyes of his people floating in a room like this so far from their homeland with nothing more than a small plaque describing the lost Kurta clan was more than he could bear to think about. He certainly had no desire to share that point of view with the man responsible for their destruction.

Kuroro looked as if he might say something else but was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass followed by the blast of an alarm in the room adjacent to them.

Kurapika quickly moved forward into the next room, Kuroro at his heels. It was another part of the same exhibit, this one filled with jewelry and ornaments. In the center of the room stood a group of people in black ski masks. They were quickly and without reverence for any of the items shoving them in black bags. Why was there no security guard?

“Some of yours?” Kurapika asked, grabbing the closest of the thieves and twisting him around, holding his arm up at a sharp angle to force him to let go of the bag.

“I think I’m actually offended,” Kuroro said, grabbing the wrist of another thief who had pulled out a gun on the blonde. He cracked the wrist easily, causing the thief to let out a scream of pain and drop the gun, which Kuroro quickly kicked out of the way.

“Offended that they would rob a museum?” Kurapika dodged out of the way as another came at him with a knife. He ducked beneath the amateurish swipe and kicked him hard enough in the stomach to knock the air out of him. The kick sent the thief flying into another who had been trying to come up behind Kuroro with a line to choke him.

“Offended they would do it so poorly,” Kuroro responded, bringing his palm up into the jaw of one of the thieves.

As they fought, they subconsciously moved together until they were back to back at the center of the room.

“This is a large group,” Kuroro glanced over his shoulder at Kurapika. “We’re making quite the ruckus and no guards have come to investigate.”

Kurapika had noticed that as well. “They must have incapacitated them first.”

“I doubt that. They aren’t moving with discretion, they have no actual skills when it comes to combat, and they aren’t grabbing goods for their value. They’re just looking for what’s shiny.”

“You _are_ offended,” Kurapika noted.

“Very,” he agreed. He gripped Kurapika by the arm and pulled him out of the way as a bullet whizzed by his head. “We move well together. You should reconsider my offer.”

“This isn’t an interview.” Kurapika shook his arm off, grabbing the gun out of the would-be assailant’s hands, pressing the button to drop the magazine out of the gun and on the floor.

“I offer a handsome benefits package,” Kuroro grinned to himself. It had been a long time since he fought hand-to-hand without the use of nen abilities. It was also nice moving with a partner who could sense his movements. In a fight, Kuroro was certain he could kill the blonde. However, that would be an absolute waste. He would do much better beside him than across from him.

A loud whistle broke his train of thought. Another man wearing a mask had entered the room, raising up just enough of his mask to whistle. Those who had been fighting suddenly backed away quickly. Kuroro tensed. There was something different about this person.

Kurapika noticed as well. “Their leader!” he said, quickly moving forward to disarm him. Kuroro couldn’t help but notice that the man held no weapons. In fact, there was a growing power in his aura.

“Kurapika! Wait-” was all Kuroro managed to get out before a light pink ball of energy rushed from the man, pressing back against Kurapika.

The blonde brought up an arm in defense, ready for a blow, but nothing seemed to hit him. What felt like a rush of hot air raced through him, but he could not feel any discernible effect.

Kuroro had noticed the burst and managed to dodge out of the way. While Kurapika stood bathed in pink energy, he tackled the man’s waist, forcing him downward and pulling his arms up behind his back. “Don’t move,” he instructed. “Are you alright?” he called out to hunter.

Kurapika was looking over his body, trying to determine what the nen attack had done. There didn’t appear to be any damage. However, as soon as Kuroro’s voice called out to him a wave of heat pulsed through his body. He clutched his chest, surprised.

He opened his mouth to respond that he wasn’t sure. When he raised his eyes to meet Kuroro’s, his heart thumped loudly in his chest and he once more felt that inexplicable rush of heat pulse through him.

Kuroro stood up, keeping a foot on the thief’s back. At the fall of their leaders, those who were not incapacitated had scattered like cockroaches under a bathroom light. Kuroro watched Kurapika curiously. He could see the blonde’s hands shaking as he gripped his shirt. “Are you in pain?” he asked.

“Just...just stop talking,” Kurapika said, his voice a bit breathless. “I need to…yes…” Without finishing his sentence he turned and practically ran out of the room.

Kuroro looked down at the man face down on the floor. He pressed his foot down a little harder, making the man groan in pain. “Now, unless you want things to go very bad for you...tell me everything about what you just did…”

\---

Kurapika pushed open the door to the bathroom and looked around quickly to determine he was alone. With shaking hands, he pulled his contact case out of his clothing and opened it. He removed his contacts and used the sink to bring a splash of water up to his face. The cool water did nothing to quell the heat inside him.

He looked at himself in the mirror, embarrassed by what he saw. His eyes were glowing red and his lips parted, panting slightly. His skin was flushed as if by a fever. “What...kind of attack….” he grimaced. Ever since the rush of pink energy had hit him he felt an uncontrollable lust. A lust for Kuroro.

The blonde was used to tempering his emotions, and that was all that had stopped him from immediately going up to the other man and grabbing him by the shirt collar. This was...this was false… a trick brought on by nen and nothing else. The thief had likely used it against the guards, incapacitating them. That explained why they so casually threw everything they saw without discretion. Who knows what the poor guards were up to right now?

The bathroom door opened and Kurapika heard the sound of dress shoes across the tile. _Oh no._

He turned around, face to face with the one person he REALLY did not want near him… for reasons different than they typically were. Kuroro had always been handsome. Kurapika’s hatred could not force him to ignore undeniable facts. However, now he found himself mentally tracing the line of his jaw and curve of his lips, wondering what they would feel like against his own?

“Get out,” he said angrily, turning back towards the sink and gripping the countertop. He just needed space. Space and clarity.

“It’s called Love Bomb,” Kuroro said, ignoring his plea. “It brings feelings of lust to the victim. The thief is now incapacitated, but it seems the attack remains.”

Kurapika could feel Kuroro’s eyes on him, even as he tried to block him out. He looked up in the mirror, his red eyes meeting the reflected gaze of the other man. “Yes, I-I figured that part out on my own.” he tried his best to seem nonchalant.

“You’ll be pleased to know that all you need to do to end the feeling is relieve yourself… through whatever is your preferred method.”

“Excellent,” Kurapika muttered through gritted teeth. He wanted Kuroro to hurry up and leave. Masturbating in a public restroom was not how he had envisioned his day going and he just wanted to hurry it up. It was hard to focus on anything. He felt hyper-aware of Kuroro just behind him, and as he stared at him in the mirror, he could feel his eyes growing even more brilliant.

“Beautiful,” Kuroro breathed, dark eyes on Kurapika’s red ones.

The blonde shook his head, trying to free himself of the shivers that rippled through him at Kuroro calling him beautiful. “W-What I don’t understand is why does it… why does this feeling center around you?” Why do I want _you_ so bad? Out of all people?

Kuroro blinked, surprised. “What?”

Kurapika shakingly turned around, still gripping the sink for stability. “I know this is just a perverted attack, but why does it make me want you specifically?”

He blinked again, a bit of a smile forming on his lips. “It shouldn’t,” Kuroro explained. “According to the thief, it causes only general arousal. Unless of course… there is already an attraction present that is feeding into the nen.”

Kurapika felt like he had been slapped in the face. “You killed… everyone I-”

“I know logically you wouldn’t, but that is the thing about attraction. It isn’t necessarily logical.” Kuroro took a step forward, closing the space between them. He leaned forward so that his lips hovered close enough that Kurapika could feel the heat of his body and smell the residual wine on his breath from their first meeting.

The blonde was paralyzed before him as he lifted up a hand and, with surprising gentleness, brushed his bangs out of his face so his eyes were unobscured. “Now,” he said softly. “Do you want me to help you with your… problem?”

Kurapika reached out and grabbed the collar of his dress shirt, yanking him forward and eliminating the remaining space between them. He couldn’t think with this cloud of want obscuring all rationality. All he wanted was to taste him. He stared Kuroro in the eyes for a moment before leaning up to press his lips to the other’s.

The kiss was readily reciprocated. Kuroro parted the other’s lips with his own and slipped his tongue inside, sliding it teasingly over Kurapika’s. Kurapika moaned in response, letting go of his collar to slide his fingers up Kuroro’s neck and tangle in his dark hair. His need was unreal and he could feel himself growing tight in his clothing. Kissing would not be enough.

Kuroro slid his hands down Kurapika’s body and onto his hips. He picked him up easily and set him on the bathroom counter, breaking their kiss to run his lips over Kurapika’s neck. With his mouth unobstructed, Kurapika gasped in earnest. He tilted his head back to give better access. He brought his legs up around Kuroro’s waist, keeping them locked together at the groin. He felt a wave of satisfaction when Kuroro gasped in response to the contact. The dark-haired man was just as hard as the blonde.

With his need growing, Kurapika gripped the sides of Kuroro’s shirt and yanked it open. Buttons popped off to bounce somewhere on the bathroom floor.

“Mm… I would have taken it off…” Kuroro’s eyes fluttered shut as the younger man’s lips found the hard lines of his chest.

“Shut up,” Kurapika said, pulling off the outer layer of his traditional garb just in case Kuroro tried to give his own clothing the same treatment. Kuroro helped him get the rest off and dropped it to the floor in a unceremonious heap. His undershirt followed until both he and Kuroro were clad in only their pants.

Kuroro leaned his forehead against Kurapika’s as the blonde man struggled with the belt on his dress slacks. Kuroro reached down and pushed his hands away, undoing the pants himself. “Not these. I don’t mind the shirt, but I think I’ll cause suspicion if I leave here later with no pants on.”

“You cause suspicion because you are a suspicious person,” Kurapika said, relinquishing and allowing Kuroro to remove his own pants. As long as they were _off._ Kuroro unbuttoned them, but made no move to pull them off completely. Instead he turned his attention to Kurapika’s remaining article of clothing.

“Have you done this before?” he asked, undoing Kurapika’s own pants.

The realization of what he was about to do cut through some of the nen-induced fog and he shook his head in response. That he had not done it before did not matter to him… he wanted to… he _needed_ to…

“Too busy with your revenge plans for any stress relief?”

“Do you _ever_ shut up…?” Kurapika tried to sneak a hand down into Kuroro’s pants but was slapped away. Before he could object, Kuroro pulled out Kurapika’s cock, running his fingers over it appreciatively. Kurapika let out a gasp and felt his whole body tighten, pleasure coursing through his hips and across his skin. While still stroking him, Kuroro knelt down in front of him.

Kurapika looked down, surprised. “Wait, what are you-”

Kuroro interrupted him by placing his mouth on the length of his cock, tongue running over it. Kurapika gasped and once more threaded his fingers through Kuroro’s hair as he felt the heat of the other man’s mouth on him.

His tongue proved to be just as talented on his cock as it was on his lips as he swirled around Kurapika’s already weeping tip. With a breath, Kuroro took all of Kurapika in his mouth, moving up and down in a steady rhythm.

Kurapika placed one hand over his mouth, shaking in desire. His other hand tightened in the black locks, gripping them roughly. He tilted his head backwards at the sensation of a mouth somewhere where only his hand had ever been. When he did so, he caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror. It was a reflection he did not recognize. Hair wild, face contorted in unabashed pleasure and his whole body quivering. Kuroro had made him completely undone.

With a sharp gasp Kurapika came without warning, spilling himself into Kuroro’s hot mouth. His orgasm rocked his body hard and he let out a cry of pleasure that echoed in the museum bathroom. He fell back against the mirror, breathing heavily.

As he struggled to collect himself, he could feel the heat that had risen in him since he was first struck with the nen ability subside and he saw with more clarity. Kurapika pushed a hand through his hair and forced his eyes to refocus. To his surprise, Kuroro had already re-buttoned his pants and was pulling on his dress shirt. Since he could not close it, it hung over his chest. Red marks were already forming on his skin, courtesy of Kurapika.

“You’re dressing?” Kurapika sat up slowly. He could still see the strain against Kuroro’s pants. He felt very exposed, completely nude while Kuroro was already clothed. He grabbed his shirt which sat crumpled on the counter and used it to cover his waist. As if Kuroro had not already seen everything.

“You had a problem. I helped,” he said, adjusting his collar so that it sat properly.

Kurapika felt as if he had been struck. “You were just… that was-”

“It didn’t seem appropriate to take you over a washroom counter if you’ve never been with anyone before. Did you want something more?”

“No,” he said quickly. Yes. No. Maybe. Kurapika did not know.

“Then until next time.” Kuroro stepped forward and put a hand on the back of Kurapika’s neck, pulling him closer and kissing his forehead. “Think about my offer,” he said quietly before pulling away completely and leaving the bathroom, letting the door slam behind him.

Kurapika brought his knees up to his chest, trying to process what had happened. He could still taste Kuroro on his lips and still feel his hands on his skin… and other places. What was even more surprising was that while the need had lessened, it still remained.

What did that mean?

\---

Kuroro sat in the back of taxi, the _Bandit’s Secret_ open in his hand. His thoughts were on a young blonde with flaming red eyes. He could still hear the cries of his pleasure ringing in his ears. He flipped through a page, stopping on his newest stolen ability.

“‘Love Bomb,’ huh? Well, it could be useful,” he murmured to himself.

“You said something, sir?” The taxi driver briefly glanced behind at his quiet passenger.

“Oh, nothing.”


	2. An Interaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika goes to meet Kuroro at his hotel room after their earlier encounter.

Kurapika stood in front of the hotel room, a small take-out container in his hands. He waited impatiently at the door, tapping his foot. Why was he doing this? Why was he here? This was absolutely foolish.  
  
The sound of a chain and deadbolt moving preceded the opening of the door. Kuroro stood before him. He was dressed much the same as he had been at the museum just a few hours earlier. Slacks and a button down shirt… well, it wasn’t buttoned down anymore. Kurapika had seen to that. He wore neither shoes nor the bandage on his forehead, exposing the cross tattoo that Kurapika imagined the other man had thought was a good idea at the time.  
  
Kuroro smiled at Kurapika, not looking especially surprised at finding him there. “Ah, what a pleasant surprise. Can’t imagine how you found me. This is the skill of a Hunter, I suppose…”  
  
“I don’t want to hear it. You wouldn’t have registered the room under your own name if you didn’t want me to find you.”  
  
Kuroro tilted his head to the side. “Are you here to talk about my offer? Or perhaps what happened in the museum bathroom-”  
  
Kurapika cut off the thief by shoving the take-out box into his hands. “Here,” he said, not making eye contact.  
  
Kuroro decided he liked this slightly flustered version of Kurapika. It was nice to see him lose some composure. He curiously opened the small container and was surprised to see a pair of baklava inside. He looked up at Kurapika for an explanation of the pastries.  
  
“You said you wanted a pastry when we met at the museum,” the blonde said by way of explanation.  
  
“So you… got me some…” Kuroro said slowly.  
  
“I don’t like to owe debts to people who aren’t important to me,” he said.  
  
“Ah. Filo for fellatio, hmm?” He smirked. “Come inside,” Kuroro said, leaving the door open as he headed inside the room.  
  
Kurapika hesitated in the doorway, the back of his neck slightly red at the casualness with which the other man spoke of their encounter. He tentatively stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. Like most hotel rooms, the carpets and walls were inoffensive, neutral colors. Dark blue for the carpet and beige for the walls. On the table beside the made bed sat a tidy pile of books. Kurapika moved over to it, picking up the top one and glancing at the title. This one was a book on philosophy and one that Kurapika had read. He set it back down and looked over the other titles. History, art, even some novels in different genres… his taste in literature was similar to Kurapika’s own. This bothered the blonde more than he cared to admit.  
  
“Please, come sit.”  
  
Kurapika looked up to see that Kuroro had set the plastic container in the middle of the small table that sat beside the full length window, displaying a breathtaking view of the city. Kuroro filled two glasses of wine and held one out to him. “Please,” he repeated.  
  
The blonde left the stack of books and took a seat across from Kuroro, taking the glass of wine. He looked out towards the city as the approaching sunset bled the sky from blue to orange. “I don’t intend to join your Troupe. Don’t insult me by bringing it up again.”  
  
Kurapika turned at the clink of tableware and watched as Kuroro calmly broke off a piece of the baklava with his fork, bringing it to his mouth. “Then shall we talk about that lie you just told? How you don’t like to owe debts to people unimportant to you?” Kuroro licked the excess honey off his lips.  
  
The Kurta shook his head and crossed his arms, annoyance crossing over his face. “A lie? I hate you, I-”  
  
“Yes, you hate me,” Kuroro interrupted, nodding. “I believe that. But unimportant to you? No, I would guess that I am incredibly important to you. Just below your friends. Perhaps even with them, at times.”  
  
Kurapika opened his mouth to object but closed it quickly. He took a long sip of wine to avoid answering. Kuroro was right, in a way. He was important to him. Important as the representation of everything he had lost.  
  
As Kurapika swallowed his wine, Kuroro regarded him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It must be difficult,” he said, his voice neutral, “achieving that kind of pleasure with someone you consider a monster.”  
  
Kurapika stood up quickly, knocking the table aside as he grabbed Kuroro by the throat and shoved him bodily against the wall, his eyes a furious red. He began to raise up his hand when he felt a sharp nudge against his abdomen. Glancing down, he saw a knife pressed up against his stomach.  
  
“Easy,” Kuroro told him. “That temper is going to get you into trouble you can’t get out of one day.”  
  
“You repulse me,” Kurapika said, releasing Kuroro’s neck and taking a step back. He took a breath and felt his vision return to normal.  
  
Kuroro pulled the knife back and set it on the tv stand. “Perhaps,” he allowed, “but here you are in my hotel room. For reasons I don’t think you understand.”  
  
“I brought you a pastry.”  
  
“Then you threw it on the floor.”  
  
“I’ll get you another one. It was the cheapest option at the cafe, anyway.”  
  
Kuroro laughed softly. “Become a Spider. I promised you that I would help you on your quest to find your family’s eyes. I remember you saying something about not wanting to end up in a museum?”  
  
Kurapika shook his head. “Even if your offer was appealing, there is no way I can ever trust you.”  
  
Kuroro took a step closer to the other man. “I could have taken advantage when you were indisposed.”  
  
“You don’t get an award for not being a complete degenerate,” he growled, eyes flashing briefly. “You had all the power in that situation. You have all the power in most situations.”  
  
“Mm, is that what it would take? You want me in your power? How one-sided…”  
  
“I doubt you would give up power so easily.”  
  
“Because I’m a thief?” Kuroro raised an eyebrow. “I want the Troupe to be strong, with or without me. You would be such an aggressive and beautiful addition to the spiders.”  
  
“Goodbye, Kuroro.” Kurapika turned and stepped over the wine-soaked carpet, heading towards the door of the room.  
  
“Wait just a moment.”  
  
Kurapika turned at the request and immediately moved into a defensive stance, eyes wide. Kuroro had his book open with one hand and a glowing pink ball of energy floating on the other. It looked to be the same as…  
  
“You stole that ability? And now you intend to use it again?” His voice hitched in alarm.  
  
“So quick to jump to conclusions. I like to get what I want. I’ll even give up a bit of power to do so.”  
  
Kurapika frowned, unsure of what he meant. Kuroro held up his hand and the pink ball of energy glowed and swirled. It rose up in the air and Kurapika brought up his En defensively. However, instead of coming near him, the ball fell back down to encompass Kuroro.  
  
The blonde took a step back in surprise as he watched Kuroro’s pupils dilate, the nen settling over the Spider’s aura in a pink fog. He saw him take in a shaky breath and could remember the way the heat had spread throughout his own body, making him itch and yearn. When Kuroro’s dark eyes came up to meet Kurapika’s he could see the lust in them. It was unusual on someone usually so cold and seemingly emotionless.  
  
Kurapika furrowed his brow at that look, but did not have time to ask any questions as suddenly Kuroro was on him. He let out a gasp as Kuroro’s hands gripped his clothing, yanking him into a kiss. For a moment he was lost in the fire of it. Kuroro’s right hand slid up to the back of his head, tangling in his hair. His other hand wrapped around his waist and bodily pressed him against his chest. His tongue slipped into his mouth and teased along Kurapika’s, causing his heart to beat quickly and his vision to shift to red.  
  
Kuroro deepened the kiss, keeping their lips locked together. His other hand began to slide beneath Kurapika’s clothing. The feel of a hot touch on his skin brought the Kurta back to his senses. He bodily pushed him away, his chain jail wrapping around the man and bringing him to his knees. Even in a state of zetsu Kurapika could practically see the lust radiating from the other man.  
  
Kurapika wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, as though that would get the taste of the thief from his tongue or the feel of his hands off his body. “What the hell are you doing?”  
  
“Sorry,” Kuroro looked up at him, mouth open and panting slightly. “I… was not anticipating the strength of this. How did you not rip my clothes off in the exhibit?”  
  
It had been a struggle. “I’m used to keeping myself calm,” he explained.  
  
“You do it poorly. You radiate emotion.”  
  
“Do you always insult those who hold your life in their hands?” he snapped, his chains constricting tighter around Kuroro. “Answer me. Why did you do this to yourself?”  
  
“To show you that I’m willing to place myself in your power. You don’t trust me, so I’ve… shifted the dynamic.”  
  
Kurapika could clearly see the tightness in the other man’s pants. “No ulterior motives?”  
  
“Well… maybe,” he admitted, lips parted in a lust-tinged smirk.  
  
Kurapika turned away, trusting his chain jail to hold Kuroro in place. He paced back and forth, unsure what to do with this chain of events. Something about seeing Kuroro bound and wanting him did things to Kurapika. He could feel his heart pounding and mind flashed back to the bathroom at the museum… had that really been just this morning? He remembered his lips on Kuroro’s chest and his hands in his hair. He could feel the thief’s lips wrapped around him and sucking him to completion. Kurapika could remember the disappointment he had felt when Kuroro had dressed and left him there, like their interaction had been casual and common. He did not know what he expected… perhaps this?  
  
“I hate to interrupt you, since you look so breathtaking deciding whether you’re going to kill me or not,” Kuroro said, interrupting his thoughts. “But this is… painful.”  
  
Kurapika flushed, as he had not been thinking about killing him at all. His mind had been engaged in much different thoughts. Kurapika brought his hand up and the chain jail tightened, pressing Kuroro against the wall of the hotel. He let out a groan as the chains slid over his body, curling around his arms and pushing them up above his head. The chains around his chest loosened and slid down to hold him at the waist.  
  
“Mm, is this why you created chains? I presumed your tastes might lead in certain directions, of course, but-”  
  
“Shut up,” Kurapika said, taking a step closer to him. He reached out slowly and ran his fingertips over one of the bruises his own mouth had made on the other man’s skin that morning. When his fingers made connection with Kuroro’s skin, the thief let out a groan of pleasure. The noise stirred feelings inside of Kurapika. He… wanted to taste him. Wanted to touch him without the fog of lust. As if in a dream, he leaned forward and kissed Kuroro’s chest, letting his tongue dip out and run along the skin.  
  
“Kurapika..!” Kuroro gasped and shut his eyes as the Hunter lay his hands on his chest and moved his lips down his body. The noises encouraged him to continue. He ran his tongue over Kuroro’s nipple and felt satisfaction ripple through him as the other man panted and strained against his chains. “You’re… ah…” Kuroro groaned.  
  
“I’m not used to you being speechless,” Kurapika said, pulling back to look at him.  
  
“Kiss me.”  
  
Kurapika scoffed. “No.”  
  
Kuroro smirked as Kurapika pulled away. It seemed he was not so easy to command. The chains loosened off his body, curling around his wrists and letting them ease down from above his head. At the loss of support, the leader of the Phantom Troupe fell to his knees in front of the blonde man.  
  
Kurapika crouched down in front of Kuroro, his heart beating heavily in his ears. He could not explain his desires away with nen, even as Kuroro watched him with eyes clouded in the fog of desire that had gotten the better of him this morning. Yet… seeing him bound before him and truly in his control… it reached inside Kurapika and thrilled a part of himself he did not know he had.  
  
His breath growing a bit heavier, he reached out again and wrapped his fingers around Kuroro’s neck, considering finishing him off right there. Instead, his fingers ghosted along his collarbone and to the collar of his shirt. He gripped it and pulled it off Kuroro’s shoulder. The chains shifted and tightened across Kuroro’s bared skin like living things. They were living things, he supposed. His chains were an extension of himself. He could feel Kuroro’s skin beneath the links in a way more intimate than could ever be described.  
  
“Touch me,” Kuroro murmured, breaking Kurapika from his inner thoughts. “Anywhere you like. I need to feel you.” He nudged his hips up and Kurapika became acutely aware of his own erection growing in his pants. Oh, he wanted to touch him, but he did not care for the commanding tone of thief’s voice.  
  
Kurapika pulled his hands away from him completely, even as chains slid along Kuroro’s thighs and brought his legs apart in a kneel. The dark haired man shut his eyes and groaned as metal grazed along sensitive areas. “I meant… with your hands…”  
  
“I’ll gag you,” Kurapika said. The threat rang empty in his ears. The Kurta was too entranced by the noises falling from Kuroro’s lips and the expressions crossing his normally stoic face. No, he would not touch him. He would not lower himself to give this monster release. However, he could still address his own unpleasant tightness.  
  
Kurapika leaned back against the edge of the bed, pulling aside his traditional outer garb so he was dressed only in his white undergarment. He slid his pants and underwear down, watching as Kuroro clung hungrily to every movement. When Kurapika took his own cock in his shaking hand, he heard Kuroro take a sharp breath.  
  
Glancing at Kuroro, Kurapika was met with a different man than the one he met in the cafe that morning. Chest rising and falling in shaking breaths, Kuroro was tight in his pants and pressing against chains that he knew would never yield.  
  
“I… see no need to help you,” Kurapika said, wondering why he was explaining his need for release.  
  
“I suppose that is true. You’ve already repaid my kindness. With a baked good,” Kuroro said in a voice that seemed much more settled than it should. How could he joke like this?  
  
Kurapika tentatively ran his fingers over his own cock, biting his lip as his desire jumped. He had never figured himself one for voyeurism, but with Kuroro just inches away, bound and horny and unable to touch himself, he found himself with a sensitivity that made the blonde doubt he was only touching himself.  
  
He shut his eyes and brushed a finger over his tip, letting out a gasp. He could hear Kuroro mirroring the noise as Kurapika began to build up a pace on himself. Even with his eyes closed he could feel Kuroro’s body against the chains. The rise of his chest, the sweat forming on his body, the gentle reverberations as he groaned at Kurapika’s display. Shit… even without Kuroro’s mouth on him, the spider was still making him so hard.  
  
“Kurapika,” came Kuroro’s voice, sending shivers through the Kurta’s body. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”  
  
He responded to the command instinctively, red eyes meeting black ones. Kuroro’s breath hitched at the sight of him. “Breathtaking,” he said, his voice strained. Kurapika came hard, body rocking under his own touch, his chains inadvertently tightening further around the thief.  
  
Kurapika fell back against the edge of the bed, breathing heavily as all the tensed muscles in his body gave way. Even his chains responded to the descent of his orgasm, loosening themselves and falling to the floor.  
  
As he let go of his limp cock and tried to regain his breath, he felt fingertips gently pushing his hair aside. Kurapika opened eyes he had not realized he had closed and found himself staring into dark eyes.  
  
“You…” Kurapika began, alarmed by their sudden closeness.  
  
“I couldn’t keep it in, I’m afraid.” Kuroro ran his fingertips along Kurapika’s cheek. “I don’t think anyone has ever made me cum with their beauty alone.”  
  
Kurapika shoved the man back and stood up, pulling up his pants and ignoring the wetness between Kuroro’s legs. He flushed, embarrassed at… at everything. Kuroro leaned back and sat on the floor, looking up at him with a smile. “Maybe next time we can actually-”  
  
“There won’t be a next time,” Kurapika interrupted, pulling his top back on. There should not have been a this time. Or a last time.  
  
“If you say so,” Kuroro said.  
  
Kurapika looked down at him with a glare, turning on his heel and striding out of the hotel room, letting the door slam behind him. Why did he feel like the other man had been in control the whole damn time?  
  
Inside the room Kuroro lay down on the floor, nearly laughing at the absurdity of this. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the abandoned pieces of baklava, resting on the edge of the fallen tablecloth. He picked it up and brought it to his lips, tongue slipping out to let the honey drip into his mouth.  
  
“Until next time, lovely Kurapika.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I originally said this would be two chapters, but I've decided to round it out into three. Three will be the last chapter for sure and it shouldn't take as long to come up. However, I will probably be starting another fanfic or two and maybe writing a one-shot (we'll see). Find me on twitter @ThirstySpiders where I mostly retweet and scream into the voice.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a very long time since I wrote or posted any type of fanfiction. However, since I plan on submitting to a [KrKr Fanzine](https://kurokura-zine.tumblr.com) I need to have at least one published work. Originally this was going to be a one-shot but I think I might make this one two chapters. We will see! Good to be back in HxH hell and I hope you enjoy!


End file.
